Professor Spencer
by Do a Barrel Roll
Summary: Dumbledore hires a Muggle for the first time, and Shawn becomes the new Divination teacher. Him and Gus join the Order of the Chicken, hunt for Horcruxes, solve crime, taunt Slytherins, and elude Dolores Umbridge the cougar to avoid being sent to Azkaban.
1. Those Two Guys

**Originally this started out as a oneshot, but then I ended up writing down so many notes for possible witty dialogue between Shawn and Gus that i couldn't resist making this into a full-length story! This will be semi-crack at the very least, and I will let you guys decide if you want it to go into AU territory or stay mostly canon but with a phony psychic detective and his amigo mejor inserted in.**

**Also, let me know in reviews if you want this to turn into a murder mystery. This takes place during Order of the Phoenix, and Shawn is dating Jules at this point. Let's just pretend Harry Potter takes place in modern time instead of the 90's.**

**Disclaimer: I claim no ownership to anything Psych or Harry Potter related besides my pineapple and the Gryffindor banner in my room. Only the first paragraph is taken directly from Order of the Phoenix. I also don't own Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Olive Garden, Star Wars, Final Fantasy, or White Castle.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One: Those Two Guys<strong>

"The Ministry has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if - and only if - the headmaster is unable to find one," said Dumbledore. "And I am happy to say that on this occasion I have succeeded. May I introduce you?"

He turned to face the front doors, through which night mist was now drifting. Harry heard two pairs of footsteps, and then two unfamiliar faces emerged from the fog.

The first guy was a young brunette man, probably in his early thirties, with hazel eyes darting about as if they were noticing things unseen to this world; he was smirking deviously. The second man was of the African persuasion and was much calmer than his companion, his eyes focused on what was directly in front of him rather than whipping to and fro like a hyperactive chipmunk on smack trying to whip its hair back and forth. The former man had a head full of hair whereas the latter man was bald, and both were attired in Muggle clothing.

After much staring at the "poorly dressed" strangers (wizards _needed _better fashion sense), the brunette finally shared their identities. "My name is Shawn Spencer, psychic detective, and this is my magic assistant, Sunflower Nudeglory."

* * *

><p>"I don't like this, Shawn. That Umrbidge woman has been eyeballing me this entire breakfast!" Gus complained to Hogwarts's new Divination teacher the next morning. The two newbies were sandwiched between Umbridge and Snape at the staff table, and neither of detectives enjoyed how both malevolent teachers resembled Lassie in the way that they all seemed to despise Shawn...Of course, the day before Shawn <em>had <em>told Snape to invest in something called Head and Shoulders, but even so, that didn't mean Umbridge also had a reason to act like her wand was shoved up her butt instead of steady in her hand.

Shawn wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Maybe she's got a thing for black pharmaceutical salesmen, Gus," he muttered, making sure the toad did not overhear.

"Shawn, there is no way that vile woman is hitting on me!" Gus protested, taking a sip of milk. Then he paused to consider the facts. She did seem like the cougar tupe, with her definitely defunct wardrobe and the toad-like appearance...Gus did a genuine spit-take as he realized that maybe she _was _hitting on him. The milk splattered all over a second year Slytherin, but seeing how Shawn and Gus had yet to be sorted, this could not cause any inter-House riots.

Shawn gave his buddy a comforting pat on the shoulder. Gus relaxed a tad, but Shawn shattered his calm entirely by whispering, "You'd totally be able to get her, buddy. I'm telling you, one date at Olive Garden-"

_"Shawn!"_

"Okay, okay, you can be a cheapskate and go to White Castle for some romantic sliders, just be sure to bring tea, biscuits, crumpets, and Pepto-Bismol, since I'm almost positive the Brits here have weak stomachs...What exactly _is _a crumpet, anyway?"

Gus, as always, answered, "It's a savory griddle cake, Shawn. They're quite popular here in Britain."

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Oh, Gus, I never knew you were a closet posh. Just remember, wanting to be British does not mean you should stop brushing your teeth and have seventeen cups of Earl Grey each day." He downed another spoonful of scrumdiddliumptious banana pudding. "So, my British chum," he spoke in his best imitation of Terry Gilliam. Hey, if they were going to be in Britain then Shawn wanted to milk his many British accents for all they were worth. "Answer me these questions three, and then we shall be off to the kitchen to pilfer us some pineapple smoothies in the name of the Knights of the Round Table. What...is the name of that dish to your left?"

Shawn wasn't bothering to keep quiet anymore, and it showed: Umbridge was gawking at Shawn as if his mouth had just farted and his butt had just burped, and Snape's surly look transformed into a full-out sneer as he slowly and deliberately swallowed forkfuls of haggis. Gus decided to roll with Shawn's movie reference that clearly, unfortunately, went over everyone else's heads. "That's steak and kidney pudding."

"Indeed, my good chap..what is its quest?"

"To be eaten..."

"What...is its favorite color?"

This was too much for poor Gus to handle. "It's a pudding, Shawn! It has no color preferences!"

"Nay!" cried Shawn, standing to desert his friend with the cougar and the cretin. "Thou art full of codswallop! I leaveth ye!"

Gus suddenly realized the consequences of being left behind and stood to join Shawn on his journey to the mysterious kitchen, but before the duo could leave, the toad blocked their path. "What is thy bidding?" queried Shawn, now using his deepest voice imaginable.

Umbridge's smile reminded Shawn of poisoned Halloween candy that parents always warned their kids about, but Umbridge managed to keep her tone to its "I'm speaking to my kindergarten class about how they suck at tying their shoes" range. "I just thought you should know your first inspection is on Friday, Professor Spencer, so you should-"

"Goody gumdrops!" the fraud psychic interrupted the undersecretary of whatever government agency she worked for (Shawn had his money on the CIA, since she was the last person he'd suspect to be a spy, and therefore the most likely to actually be one). "I'll be sure to prepare a frickin' awesome lesson and get a batch of housefly crumpets from the kitchen for you...assuming crumpets aren't just some British urban legend I've heard about." he thumped her hard on the back. "Jolly good day, Umbritches!"

From their seats at the Gryffindor table, Harry, Ron, and Hermione gaped along with the rest of the table in shock and awe. Ron was the first to voice his amazement. "Did the new professor just..."

"Thump Umbridge on the back and offer her bugs?" supplied Harry. "Yep. He sure did."

"I officially have a new favorite teacher!"

Shawn overheard the last part as him and Gus walked out; he smirked. "This'll be fun!"

Gus, on the other hand, was slightly nervous. "Let's just hope they don't ask us to perform magic."

"Hey, it's not our fault we're Moogles."

"It's _Muggles, _Shawn!"

"Whatever."

* * *

><p><strong>Up next: What will happen for Shawn and Gus next? Will they meet our favorite Gryffindors Will they verbally abuse the Slytherins? Will they be Sorted into Hogwarts houses? Will Shawn reference multiple 80's movies? All in good time, my good man...<strong>

**Shawn has to be the easiest character for me to write. Great minds think alike!**


	2. The Obligatory Flashback Sequence

**Thanks for all the reviews! Anyone who's a reader of my other works probably has noticed that I tend to update more quickly if I get lots of reviews. **

**MG: Regarding your review, Dumbledore is going to have Shawn and Gus sorted for the sake of tradition. Dumbledore seems fond of the trivial matters like that, even if he likes inter-House unity and such. Also, Umbridge wasn't actually hitting on Gus...that's just wrong on too many levels. **

**Thanks to everyone for the reviews! It's like the butter for my bread, though I never eat anything with butter...so your reviews are orange marmalade, I guess. Which is better! I'm probably not going to do a murder mystery, but they will be aiding in the Horcrux hunt, and without all the free tips Harry got in the books. Besides, the idea of Shawn and Ovaltine Jenkins destroying Horcruxes is hilarious in itself. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned Psych, I'd be eating pineapple with every meal. If I owned Harry Potter, I would drown myself in butterbeer for enjoyment's sake. I have done neither. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two: The Obligatory Flashback Sequence<strong>

_A few days ago..._

Deep within the bowels of London, inside a hole-in-the-wall diner that, for its ramshackle appearance, had surprisingly scrumptious tomato bisque, Albus Dumbledore sighed. Any day now, Umbridge would be sacking Professor Trelawney, but not a single half-decent replacement could be found! The closest Albus had gotten to near-acceptable was a schizophrenic Squib with rabies who correctly guessed Albus's natural hair color and was able to guess what job position he was applying for...since Dumbledore told him.

Albus didn't need mediocre. He needed perfection...and Advil.

Fortunately, though no Advil was available in the wizarding community (they still depended upon the home remedies - pickled toad eyes were a favorite among the English crowd), perfection was plopped down two tables away from the aged wizard, two tables away from the aged wizard, shoveling down lemon rice soup, and chose that moment to ask Albus, "Hey, Professor, would you be willing to lend me some of those lemon drops you're carrying on your person? I can't guarantee you I'll return them, but I'll try in about forty-eight hours or so, depending on if we get Mexican food tonight."

Albus's head practically did a 180 as he twisted to face the speaker, a young chap with a humorous smile, mischievous hazel eyes, and a head full of hair. Beside him was a dark young'un with a polite smile, focused dark eyes, and no hair whatsoever. They simply had to be Muggles, but how... "How did you know I have lemon drops? And that I'm in the teaching profession?"

Mr. Psychic's grin widened. "I'm Shawn Spencer, psychic detective. This is my associate, Mephibbosheth Frankenberry." He gestured toward his friend.

Albus quickly appraised this psychic detective. Yes, he was clearly a Muggle, seeing how he had no idea who Albus Dumbledore was, but... it was either Shawn Spencer or the schizophrenic Squib...

"Tell me, Shawn, have you any teaching experience?"

* * *

><p>"So those teeny, tiny owls are capable of flying all the way across the ocean and the United States to reach Jules and my dad?" Shawn asked, though his question contained not an ounce of doubt. In the course of two days, him and Gus had seen magic wands that were actually legitimate, exploding wardrobes, elves in dish towel togas, and talking wanted posters. Even Lassie wouldn't be skeptical if he were there, though Shawn wasn't complaining that the uppity detective wasn;t tagging along for their now-extended vacation in Britain.<p>

Dumbledore nodded; the dynamic duo and the Gandalf impersonator were enjoying some delectable cranberry and oranges scones in a bizarre room that Dumbledore tried to pass for an office. They were discussing some very serious business. "I saw you two were extremely amused by the ghost of Sir Nicholas."

Gus smiled slightly and took a sip of Earl Grey tea with four creams and two sugars; he would have to talk with the toga-clad elves later and introduce them to the marvelous entity known by the universe as Starbucks. "Well, he was pretty cool, but I'm pretty sure Shawn scared him off after he asked to store Pez in the guy's neck."

"In my defense, I thought he was a legitimate paranormal Pez dispenser!" Shawn defended himself distractedly. He was actually pondering whether or not he'd be able to get away with "psychically" communicating with the dead in this place.

Dumbledore chuckled; these two boys were a breath of fresh air. "Anyways, do you agree? The job will only be for a few months, unless you'd like to stay longer."

"Just a few months," said Gus. "Psych will be needing us soon enough, and Shawn always seems to be forgetting that I have another job. I'm in pharmaceuticals, you see." He tried to sound peeved, but in reality he was still excited about the prospect of being in a magic school. They even had magical candy! He'd never admit his excitement to Shawn though, who was much more obvious about his giddiness.

"Agreed," added Shawn as he fiddled with a bizarre pendulum-like object on Dumbledore's desk.

"Perfect!" Dumbledore clapped his hands together in delight. "Then let's get down to business!"

"To discuss pay?" Gus queried.

"No, to defeat the Huns!" cried Shawn, pumping his fist in the air and mustering his best war face.

The Mulan reference sailed way over the uncultured Headmaster's wizened head. "Huns? No, we're fighting the Death Eaters at the moment. A Muggleborn I'm acquainted with compared the Death Eaters to your Nazis."

Shawn missed the statement of war and only saw the opportunity for another quip. "So their leader is a mustached numbnuts in need of some bubble wrap therapy?"

"Ah...no, he actually has no hair to speak of, or a nose for the mustache to even be placed underneath."

"But he's a numbnuts?" questioned Gus.

"...I won't deny it."

Shawn hummed, deep in thought. "Did someone steal his nose in a magic trick? 'Hey, wizard Hitler, I got your nose!'? What's his name, anyways? Or her name?"

"Lord Voldemort," answered Dumbledore.

There was awkward silence after Dumbledore's words. Then, finally, Gus spoke, "...Man, no wonder he went evil."

"So many ways to butcher that name," agreed Shawn, already making a mental list of every way to tease Lord Volleymole's name, or whoever he was.

Dumbledore found himself reminded of two other mischievous boys, though Gus seemed more sensible than James or Sirius ever did. "So what do you two boys say to being sorted into Hogwarts Houses? We do it with all the professors who are new to Hogwarts, and although you are not a teacher, Mister Guster, I have not doubt you'll be wanting to at least assist Mister Spencer."

Gus nodded. No way was he missing out on any of the magic food or the flying sports. Shawn, meanwhile, glanced around the office, but alas... "Alright, Gandalf, what are we using to be sorted? Facebook quiz? Personality survey? Deadly tests of valor?"

But DUmbledore shook his head to all of the above and instead pulled out a musty old hat, ridden with holes. "No, you just need to put on the Sorting Hat." Rather than leave the detectives absolutely bamboozled, the White Wizard clarified, "The hat will read your innermost thoughts, feelings, and intentions and sort you into either Gryffindor, the daring and chivalrous; Ravenclaw, the wise and studious; Hufflepuff-" he paused to allow Shawn and Gus time to giggle, as all newcomers did at the Hufflepuff name. Why Helga never got a name change, the world may never know... "-the loyal and sure; and Slytherin the ambitious and cunning."

_I bet that's the House Baldiewhore was in_, Shawn thought. _So there's the idiots, the wise guys, the marshmallows, and the Voldemort Youth..._

"I'll go first!" Gus blurted, snapping Shawn out of his deep, deep thought. He slipped the Hat on and, about a minute later, the hat yowled, "HUFFLEPUFF!", which elicited a cry of astonishment and terror from Shawn.

"Bet that one won't make it into Gryffindor," the Hat muttered, more to itself than anything. All three of the room's occupants heard anyway.

Indignant, Shawn shouted, "I'll prove you wrong!" and pulled the Hat over his own cranium,

_Hm, _the Sorting Hat's voice resounded throughout Shawn's mind, _so you're lying to everyone about being a psychic...that's positively Slytherin of you! Oh, relax, I won't tell on you! _it snapped when Shawn began to fret. _I'm a HAT, for Merlin's sake! Watching your charade unfold as you mess with people may be the most excitement I'll have this year! This existence has been dull since the Chamber of Secrets incident..._

_Now, you're not very ambitious at all...Oh, a brilliant mind! You have to have twice the smarts of that Hermione Granger! Too bad you have all the laziness she lacks!_

Shawn shrugged. "Well, that's Equivalent Exchange for you," he said, though only the Hat could hear.

_My, that's a good show. You watch a lot of television, I see...films, too, _the Hat commented. Now all the knowledge of pop culture contained in Shawn's gray matter was being processed by the Hat. _They call these plot twists in the Muggle world? Ha! So predictable! I could think of better, and I don't even have a brain!_

"Well, what would be some ones you could think of regarding this place?" asked Shawn.

_Oh, I don't know...Snape kills Dumbledore?_

"Gandalf? Yeah right! A Balrog couldn't beat that guy!"

Oblivious to this conversation, Dumbledore waved a hand in front of Shawn's face; it went unnoticed. "This is actually the longest Sorting I've ever seen in all my years at Hogwarts..."

Gus shrugged at the Headmaster. "Shawn is...a complicated person."

The Sorting Hat heard this. _We're getting off topic here, methinks!_

"Right..." Shawn said, saddened by their conversation's ending.

_Well, you're brave...when you have to be...sometimes. And you're not the type to give up on someone...eh, sorry about this, mate. I really do like you, but I'm placing you in _HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Screw you! We're so not besties anymore!" Shawn hollered as he ripped the Hat off and hurled it on the office floor.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Shawn and Gus were scouting out their new quarters while munching on some more of those delightful scones, whiched turned out to actually be an excellent comfort food. Neither had said a word since leaving Gandalf's office, but finally Gus managed to voice his displeasure. "I can't believe we're stuck in the one House that sounds like a pillow brand!"<p>

Shawn sighed. "Really, Gus? A pillow is the best you can think of? I was thinking it sounded like a street name for cocaine." Gus just continued to mutter to himself about honeybees and marshmallows. "Gus, don't be a naked mole rat having a bad hair day. I suppose we out to be proud of our House. Everyday we're hufflin', right?"

Gus just chomped down on another scone and scowled.


	3. BS 101

**I feel like crap...a girl at my school got hit by a train today. I didn't know her too well, but I've had a few conversations with her before and I'm friends with her sister...R.I.P.**

**I had this written up before it all happened, so no point in not publishing just because of this. You guys won't be getting to see Harry's class, though. I ended up adding all that section's funny parts into this chapter...which isn't that funny, in my opinion.**

**I don't own Psych, Harry Potter, Inception, Lord of the Rings, Batman, Star Wars, The Muppets, or Winnie the Pooh.**

_Italics _are either Shawn's psychic visions or dream sequences.

**Bold** is author's notes.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three: B.S. 101<strong>

From his seat in front of the class, Shawn waved his hands around a crystal ball (he had personally spit-shined it earlier, much to Gus's disgust). "Welcome...to DIVINATION!"

It was Shawn's first class of the year, and unfortunately the class was entirely composed of Slytherin students. Shawn, however, was undaunted; after all, he did have previous experience with teaching arrogant brats, back at that academy for kid geniuses. When he told Dumbledore this back during the job interview, he had kind of failed to mention how the job had only lasted a few days.

But if he had tried to fail, did that mean he had actually succeeded? Can one succeed at failing, or is it too absurd of an oxymoron?

That's inception for you.

Shawn's eyes flickered from student to student, searching for things to "sense." Gus, meanwhile, hung by the door to Shawn's office, munching on Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean. While he waited for Shawn to begin (and finish) teaching, he took another glance at the new decorations: that "Hang in there" cat poster was on the left wall, along with a Gandalf poster and a chart on texting lingo. The students were giving the right wall incredulous looks because Shawn had congealed Dumbledore into turning it into a mural of Batman and Darth Vader dueling with umbrellas on the Eiffel Tower.

"That's absurd," Snape had drawled snarkily upon seeing it.

"So is your face," Shawn had retorted.

Back in the present, Shawn finished scanning his target, a rat-faced, tow-haired prick with an upturned nose and a smug smirk. Overall, he reminded Shawn of a ferret. "Does anyone have any questions before we begin? I will answer all your queries."

"Unless you ask about his dinosaur fetish," Gus chimed in.

Shawn sighed. "Now, now, not in the classroom environment!"

A brunette girl with a pug nose spoke first. "Why is Nudeglory here?"

"My name's not Nudeglory!" Gus exclaimed. "It's-"

"Sunflower is here because he is my psychic assistant," Shawn interrupted. "I need him in case I have dry cleaning that needs fetching, spills that need moping - you get the gist."

Now rat-face spoke. "What are you?"

"Excuse me?" said Shawn.

"Pureblood, half-blood, Mudblood-"

"Why would I have dirt in my arteries?" Shawn questioned, the same time that Gus said, "Whoa!" and slammed his bag of magical jelly beans on Shawn's desk, totally misinterpreting what kind of racist the prat was being. He stomped toward rat-face. "Are you insulting my people? You really going there?" Gus beckoned to Blaise Zambini, who was skulking in the back. "Help a brother out!"

Draco still didn't understand the problem. "What did I say?"

Shawn shook his head mournfully. "I didn't know Britain was still into that white supremacy stuff-"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Draco smacked his pasty forehead against his textbook. "I'm talking about magical lineage, not skin color!"

"...Oh," said Gus. Well, eh felt like a putz. "You'll have to forgive us and our uneducated ways." At this rate, they'd discover their Muggle identities within hours!

"To answer your question," said Shawn, "we're Muppets."

"Muggles," corrected Gus.

"I've heard it both ways."

"No, you haven't."

The pug-nose didn't bother raising her hand this time. How rude! "Alright, prove you're a psychic then!"

It was on, then! Shawn peered at the girl, checking every minuscule detail.

_Barely visible grass stains red spot on neck mussed hair in back towards the right and pushed up blade of grass between textbook and notebook_

Shawn raised two fingers to his temples. "It's nice to know you and your boyfriend are having fun, but next time pick a better hiding place than behind the bushes in the courtyard...What was your name again?"

The girl was scowling, but her sneer couldn't hide her embarrassed blush. "Pansy," she muttered.

Shawn snickered. Draco, meanwhile, pointed at Gus. "What about him? What can he do?"

Shawn popped a squat on Draco's tea table; it creaked and groaned like a mummy in a B-list horror flick beneath him, but it did not topple. "You see, it's Sunny's snack time, and if you interrupt it he becomes grumpier than Eeyore." Confused silence followed this. "...What, none of you have seen Winnie the Pooh? You guys make me sad."

Draco snorted. "He's a Mudblood, isn't he?"

Shawn rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around Draco's shoulders. "Ah, you remind me of myself when I was your age...except I wasn't a rat-faced douche bag with no friends."

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews? They're nice. If I could taste a review, I bet they'd go down like liquid white chocolate, only fat free so I wouldn't get sick afterwards.<strong>

**EDIT: School was so eerie today... The hallways were silent.**


End file.
